A Man Running Out of Time
Spencer Rylan, a 61-year-old property mogul from Seattle, had spent his entire career conquering skylines—yet the one thing he couldn’t outbuild or outrun was the clock.
A specialist in Chicago had confirmed what Spencer’s sleepless, breathless nights already told him: his lungs were collapsing faster than medicine could slow them.
His world shrank into a cycle of oxygen tanks and hushed reminders, echoing through a mansion so quiet it felt hollow.
That stormy evening, despite the weather stabbing at the windows, Spencer insisted on his nightly drive—his only way of pretending life wasn’t slipping through his fingers.
His nurse, Camille Hart, sat in the front seat beside their driver, Javier Cruz.
“Sir, the humidity isn’t safe,” Camille warned gently.
Spencer offered a thin smile. “At this point, Camille, the weather can’t do more damage than time already has.”
He stared at the city that once bowed to him—now blurred behind sheets of rain. With no children, no partner, and a nephew more interested in inheritance than family, Spencer felt the weight of his solitude.
And then he saw them.
Four Small Figures Under a Storefront Awning
Near a luxury boutique, beneath a narrow awning barely big enough for one person, four tiny shapes huddled together.
Four girls—soaked, shivering, and terrified.
Four heads of pale hair plastered to small faces.
Four matching sets of wide, fearful blue eyes.
Quadruplets.
The eldest—older by only minutes—held a torn tarp over her sisters like a shield.
One of the youngest cried, a soft, trembling sound Spencer felt in his chest.
It was not pity that struck him.
It was recognition.
He had once been that forgotten child.
“Stop the car,” he said.
Camille turned, startled.
“Mr. Rylan—”
“Stop. The. Car.”
Javier pulled over.
A Choice That Changed Everything
Rain knocked against Spencer as he stepped out, leaning heavily on his cane. Every breath hurt, but he moved forward.
The oldest girl stepped in front of her sisters, chin trembling yet determined.
“We don’t have anything you can steal,” she said.
Spencer’s heart cracked.
“I’m not here to take,” he whispered. “I’m here to help.”
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